‘You won’t get there in time,’ said Blackstone. ‘If Burgos falls then Hugh Calveley will bask in the glory offered by your bastard brother. A day, perhaps two. Your army stretched across the eastern border will have been defeated. Toledo will have fallen. Next will be Seville. Riders to the east will be the French. They are closing in on you. You should slow them. They won’t know your route. Send a diversionary force. Even a day will make a difference. Spur your horses and ride longer hours. If the moon blesses you, then ride through the night.’ Blackstone cast a critical look around the comfortable quarters. ‘Setting up accommodation fit for a king takes time. Valuable time lost.’

Don Pedro’s temper flared. He kicked a stool; the plates and a goblet of wine crashed onto the floor. Servants ran forward to clear up the mess. The King stepped closer to Blackstone, who stood as unmovable as a rock.

‘Your reputation for insolence precedes you.’

‘My reputation for winning battles is what you should care about, my lord. I am not here to let you be blinded by those who seek your favour or fear your displeasure. I am here to save you. Break camp before first light. Let the boys ride the pack horses instead of running next to them. Give everyone who serves a chance to live.’

Don Pedro stood his ground. His eyes gleamed with anger. Blackstone knew a dangerous moment when he saw it and realized that if he was going to persuade the violent King to follow advice that would lead him to the Prince’s safety in Bordeaux, then he needed to restrain his own insistence. He bent and picked up the map. ‘This tells its own story, sire. You go one way and send a diversion another.’ Blackstone did not need to look at the map. ‘South and east around the hills and escarpment. If du Guesclin is closing in, then they will burn villages and towns. Your people will run from them. They won’t be able to run fast enough. They’ll be butchered on the road. A group of men between them and the French will buy them and you time.’

Blackstone’s words appeared to calm the King. After a moment he nodded. ‘I am sending Álvaraz and twenty men at first light.’

The King raised his eyes to look at Blackstone, as if wanting agreement.

‘I will split my force and accompany him. Sir Gilbert and the rest of the men, with most of my archers, will take Álvaraz’s place and ride with you.’

Don Pedro had calmed his temper and in cold contrast he stared at Blackstone. ‘If reports are accurate of the number of French-led routiers, then you are likely to die on the road.’ He shrugged. ‘Álvaraz is expendable. If you die, then the Prince will be unhappy I let you go.’